Stranger Than You Dreamt It
by shoeychocolatXD
Summary: what if Walter Kovacs was given to an orphanage after his birth? and what if Dr. Manhattan had not killed Rorschach but sent him to the world of that walter? writing with cyberbutterfly this beautiful peice of deliciousness, my muse cyberbutterfly's imput
1. Walter by shoeychocolatXD

First off, I don't own anyone besides my own oc's and I don't want to be sued

This is what would have happened if Sylvia Kovacs had put Walter in an orphanage.

Jon wouldn't have had his accident and the world turned to a path like ours. But the original minutemen still exist.

PLEASE don't kill me, my plot bunny and my muse both decided to rape me with this so please don't kill me, I promise you , It will go to the Rorschach we all know. Just hold out for a while

* * *

Journal entry: October 30, 1985

I had another nightmare last night. The man I see has been showing up more and more in my dreams. The black and white of his face is perfectly symmetrical and moves to the emotions behind it. He is there in the snow and ice.

_DO IT!_ He screams, taking the mask of to reveal his face, my face, our face.

_DO IT!_ Again we scream.

The electric blue man raises his hand and it all goes black

* * *

"Walter, are you ok"

Walter Kovacs woke up to the sound of his wife's voice. on most days that is all he would wake up to, these dreams happend so many times, they could hardly be called dreams, but plauging worries or something entierly diffrent. Sighing, he ran his hands through his short hair, they started to tremble as he remembered the dream that was so vague it could have been more of a memory than a dream.

_DO IT!_

The voice echoed in his head

_Damn this, why is this happening to Me._

He got out of his bed to run to the bathroom, his bathroom wanst that far down the hall. he felt like he was about to vomit. with the door locked safely behind him, he walked to the sink. in the mirror above the sink, he saw his tired and ragged reflection, he studied it for a moment before his thaughts where interupted.

"Come on, Walter, are you ok. Please come back to bed"

his wife was banging on the door,she couldnt open it, the locks where very strong, they where both crazy about the saftey of their home and not even an elephant could break through that door.

"Hold on, I will be back in a second "

_Oh god those people, what was that, that man, he looked just like me._

He looked into the mirror to his pale features. People have said he was ugly. He had strong angular features and freckles that didn't just populate his face but his shoulders and chest as well. He also had flame red hair and blue eyes like dark black ice. Hs wife, Blaire, who was to beautiful for a man like him, said that she loved his features, he realized she was just saying this to make him feel better.

He looked at the door that he knew his wife was still standing behind. she probably wouldnt have moved for anything, he walked over to the door to unlock it. when he did, she rushed into the bathroom to see if he was alright, this had become a nightly experience for them.

"I love you" he whispered more to himself than to her.

* * *

Somewhere in New York 1940

"I love you my precious baby Walter, please forgive me for leaving you here"

Sylvia Kovacs knelt down on the steps of an orphanage. the cold wind blew into her face. she tried to keep the bundled up baby warm but it hardly matterd, the wind and some tufts of snow that still came this late in the year all seemed to atract themselves to her and her child. She knew she couldn't keep her son. charlie left, what would he say when he found out he had a child.

_im not even sure he is charlie's_

Her life was too terrible for a child. even if charlie did come back, would he even stay with her? She looked at her son, he had beautiful blue eyes. _just like his daddy_. She knew she was doing the right thing.

_why do I get cursed with this life, charlie better keep his promise, i dont want to loose him too_

"When you are older, remember that I care"

She put a hand written note beside her son. She said one last good bye before she rang the doorbell to the orphanage and ran.

The note read;

**This is Walter Kovacs. He was my son, who I loved enough to let go. Please just find him a good family.**

* * *

Journal entry: October 31, 1985

It is Halloween. I still have to go to teach school never gives us time off.

Tonight Blaire and I will go to a halloween partythrown by our ornthology proffessor.

Dan Dribeurg and his wife Laurie have a nice brownstone about two mikes into queens.

Blaire has a dress made with a new fabric by a Dr. Jon Osterman. It moves so beautifully. It reminds me of the man's mask from my dreams.

* * *

"Mr., Kovacs, hey Mr., Kovacs"

"What is it Johnny"

_Goddamn it we went over the material three times if you have another question about it I will break your fingers._

He didn't say that of course. He couldn't lose his job but that kid is going nowhere fast. some of these students acted like 5 year olds, actually now that he thought about it they act WORSE than 5 year olds. He gave Johnny a death glare that usually made any of his students give up. But not Johnny. He never gave up.

"Hi"

That kid was stupider than he expected

"Hurm"

He turned back to the figures he was writing on the board; he was eagerly awaiting the time when he would get home to see his wife. life at home does have its advantages and ten years with blaire wasnt the only advantage, hopefully they would have little children to bless their home smetime in the near future. He was so far lost in his mind that he barely heard the bell ring for the end of the school day.

* * *

"Walter"

Dan Dribeurg, an unfit history professor in his late thirties, welcomed Walter with open arms. He thought of Walter as a close friend. And they kind of where. they had been teaching at the U for years together.

"Anyways I was telling Adrian here about you. Adrian is one of the men responsible for that dress your wife is wearing."

Dan ushered a handsome, tall, blonde man forward. Walter offered his hand to the man.

Walter waited for the man to speak. Adrian took Walter's hand and started to speak, he spoke with a slight German accent

"hello, I am Adrian veidt; I went to college with Dan. Ive heard a lot about you. Dan seems to think very highly of you."

"Why thank you. I take it you are an inventor"

It was all he could do not to crush the man's fingers in his hand. Adrian was fake, he could tell just by looking at him that he didn't care for anyone. probably the most egotistical man he had ever met. He belonged in the city that he worked for. paid off by the government. Before he could carry on the conversation any further, they where interrupted by Laurie.

"Nice costume Walter, what are you supposed to be"

"Hello Mrs. Dribeurg, im supposed to be a hobo"

And true enough he wore old clothing and carried a sign that said the end is nigh.

_she probably thinks it fits, god knows the woman hates me, but she has to put up with me bcause of Dan_

"What are you supposed to be?"

He asked her but he knew what it was. She wore a costume identical to the one her mother wore as a crime fighter. She looked whoreish but he was best friends with her husband and she friend with his wife. So he kept his mouth shut.

_dont want any uncalled for, uh attention or stress between the two._

_"_Im supposed to be silk Spectre. What is Blair supposed to be?"

She turned to his wife, leaving Walter alone and the question unanswered. _she is probably the most ditzy woman i had ever met, probably the most ADD too, cant she keep a conversation for more than 5 seconds._

_Hurm, this place is full of people that havent got an interest in the world of what the others are doing, and i could probably care less, i might just leave early., I should remember to never accept an invite to a party again. _

he walked over to his wife, who was telling Laurie about her dress.

"I don't know what I am supposed to be, I think I will just say I am a walking Rorschach test. Ha-ha, what do you see?"

She spun around, showing off the dress and the movements it made. it was very pretty.

"I see a beautiful woman who can't wait to get home and relax,"

Walter pulled her over to the refreshments table. desprate not to pull attention to themselves, no more boring conversation, he couldnt take it anymore.

"I don't want to be here Blaire, can we please go home now"

"Fine honey, we will just say you have a stomach ache or something" she whispered back "plus I kind of don't want to be here anyway."

They said there goodbyes and left

* * *

read and review, YAY CHAPTER ONE P.S. blaire is 35 here. :)

oh yeah and who ever finds the teeny tiny refrence to one of jackie earle haleys other movies gets... wait for it... A COOKIE or something else i have in my kitchen


	2. Rorschach by shoeychocolatXD

ohhh chapter two with everyones favorite psycho

once agian, do not own watchmen

had to revamp my chappys, they where a little to crappy, but all is good now

p.s. it is so hard for me to write rorschach because he has terrible grammar and the english teacher in me FREAKS OUT.

* * *

Rorschach's journal November 1st 1985

Woke up in New York,

did Manhattan transport me back here?

No screams of misery, no bodies on the street. Could the worlds smartest man have failed? Something not right. Met filth outside bar, didn't recognize face. Laughed. Smashed teeth in, laughter stopped.

Saw a man who looked like me walking into school building, very suspicious. Going to follow. Found a sign like mine in dumpster beside gunga diner, started walking the streets again. city goers give me money. never used to.

* * *

"Walter" Dan Driberg rushed up to Rorschach like he was comfortable with him. _obviously insane, told daniel not to blow my cover, thought to do it anyway, crazy._ Rorschach shied away and gave a low growl of warning, but kept walking at the pace he was going.

"Hey Walter, I didn't think you liked your costume that much and phew you stink, did you roll around in the sewers or something, god, man I didn't know you had those scars, or that bruise, what happened to you last night? Aren't you supposed to get to your classroom? You are supposed to teach the students algebra you know"

Rorschach just kept on walking down the street. Daniel gave up trying to talk to him and went instead into the school building that the look alike went into

Had Daniel gone crazy, he did not teach and he certainly did not know Daniel to teach as well. _teaching, what has daniel been doing, had he been getting into opiates, not like daniel. must investigate further._

He heard a scream from a nearby alley. A woman sounded like she was being raped. Rorschach pulled his mask, trench coat and fedora from the nearby dumpster. Ready to fight at any moment.

_now city shows true face._

"do you like this, huh you whore, i bet your husband never touches you like this, no i bet he dosnt touch you at all." a man about 6'1 held her to the wall and from the looks of things was about to rape the poor woman, she screamed agian when Rorschach finally got his attention.

"What do you want freak, she is mine, get your own." The man turned away from Rorschach unaware that he would soon meet a painful fate.

Rorschach rushed foreward and slammed his fist into the bigger mans throat. the man let go of the woman, blood spewed from his mo8uth and fell to the ground. weather he was dead or just unconcious is unknown, it wasnt a long fight, thugs these days, none of them seem to fight as well as they used to. the woman he was holding slid to the ground. He turned to walk away when the woman ran up to him and threw her arms around him.

_crazy woman, not going to bother myself with her, must get back to patroling streets with mask on, face feels good but would attract to much attention._

"oh thank you, thank you, thank you, I really cant repay you for saving my life but thank you anyway sir."

He pried the hysterical woman off of him and started to walk away. she looked sheepish but continued to talk to him. she noticed he was very unconfortable but she had to finish the statement.

"My name is Blaire Kovacs, um; do you want to have dinner with me and my husband Walter?"

He couldn't believe what he was hearing, this woman was insane. How could she be married to Walter Kovacs when he was Walter Kovacs? _most defantly a trick, they are trying to get to me , probably tricky dick,_ He was about to walk away again when he noticed her looks for the first time, she looked too familiar to him. _nothing to worry about, she looks like every common whore that you come across._ He was ready to walk away whan he was hit full force with the realization.

"Blaire Roche?"

it couldnt be her, looked to much like her, but couldnt be, blaire was dead she is too old to be blaire roche anyway.

the woman looked at him, obviously startled.

"How do you know my maiden name sir? I haven't used it since Walter and I got married, that was ten years ago."

"I knew a little girl whose name was Blair Roche, she was killed"

She was instantly saddened by this. He could tell. She did not say anything until he turned to walk away a third time no use sticking around, _obvoiusly a trick, but what if she is blaire roche looks like her. could be her. no most defanitly a trick_

"Can you walk me to the school building; I want to be with my husband right now"

What, her husband is in the school building. That meant he could get a first hand look at this other Walter Kovacs, and maybe the doppelganger that he saw walk in there as well.

"yes"

She started walking out into the main street and towards the school building. Rorschach followed. It gave him time to think. Hadn't Adrian blown up New York? Then why is it still standing? And he knew Blair Roche was dead, and even if she was alive she wouldn't be this old. He put it all together when she lead him into the school building. students looked at him, they where terrified, but with blaire they knew that this man with a swirling black and white face wouldnt touch them. he tought to look for his doppleganger when he came face to face with him.

When they came face to face they both where stunned.

_That is the man from my dreams_, thought Walter ._how could be here right now with me and if I pull off his mask, will I be under there?_

Rorschach knew that this was a paradox. He shouldn't be here he thought, _I shouldn't be here, and these people shouldn't be here either. walter is dead, killed with the very woman he is standing beside, manhattan did this, isnt right._

But it didn't matter what went through there heads. The thing both of them where thinking of was the scene in the snow. Two words rang out in their heads at precisely the same time. it could be percieved as a paradox. it was a paradox. but the scene in the snow rang out and would not be ignored

_DO IT!_

_a flash of blue light and it all went black._

Ohhhh cliff hanger, I told you that it wasn't gonna be completely terrible now didn't i?

Anyway please read and review.


	3. till next time by shoeychocolatXD

Rorschach turned away from the teacher and his wife. He started to walk out of the school building. trick, or a paradox. Walter ran after him.

"Hey, thank you for saving my wife"

"Hurm" Rorschach walked away more brusquely, the less this other man knew, the better.

"Who are you?" Rorschach never recalled himself being so inquisitive, it was a strange feeling.

"Rorschach" he told him

"Rorschach? Like that test thingy?" Walter turned when Rorschach did, keeping with him although Rorschach didn't want to keep talking. it was to dangerous. the more time they spent together, the more of a paradox they would become. and paradoxs have a way of tryig to fix themselves.

"Should be with wife?" Rorschach finally asked trying to shake the man away from him.

"Blaire is a strong woman, she knows how to take care of herself, she will be fine" Walter dismissed Rorschach's statement with a slight shrug of the shoulders, that was a mistake because he found himself up against the wall of the nearest alley in a choke hold.

"cant, may be a strong but the filth is stronger and more toxic. take care of her; keep her safe" Rorschach was furious; he didn't think that he should care and he never spoke more in his entire life. His voice came out in ragged breaths. anger ran rampant through his body. it was hars ah and irrational, What was he thinking? Those thoughts, he never thought about things like this, why did he care about a woman who an hour ago at best was nameless and faceless. He threw Walter to the ground and walked away

Rorschach never looked back to see Walter not there, he heard a gruff voice from beside him.

* * *

"I do love her; I love her with all my heart. That is why I married her. That is why I plan to grow old with her, and that is why when we have our children, I won't let them go either" Walter stood with his back to the wall. Even then he still held a defensive position.

"I don't expect you to believe that though, you aren't me, you don't know me and you never will." His voice was still ragged and gruff from the death grip by Rorschach.

Walter, he thought to himself, what you are doing man? He may not be you and he still could be the man from your dreams but it isn't smart to aggravate him none the less

The voice in his head that dictates common sense (his brain) didn't want to continue further but the need to know (his heart) had to prove once and for all that this man in front of Walter was indeed the man from his dreams.

"I need to know" he continued further, knowing that this road was dangerous. "Who are you?"

* * *

rorschach looked away. he could not face the niave and slightly childish version of himself. this self was naive, the world hadnt shown its true face to him, or he hadnt had the courage to see it.

"dont know anymore"

he ran towards the back of the alley. before walter had a chance to register the fact that he was leaving, he was gone.


	4. rough times by Cyberbutterfly

alright this chappy is courtesy of my girl cyber butterfly. i know it is diffrent than my style of writing but i assure you. the time i took for this story had made me better so without further adeau i give you cyberbutterflys chapter. :)

oh yeah, and um SQUEE for this chapter, just sayin that is the highest compliment from a fangirl and i am giving it.

* * *

Rorschach's Journal: November 3rd, 1985

Suspicions confirmed. Expected death, instead sent to alternate world by Dr. Manhattan; worlds broke-down god apparently not without a sense of humour.

Doesn't matter

Talked with this cities Walter- pale, weak shadow of what should be. Content with putting fingers in ears, closing eyes, whispering everything's fine while outside city dies by degrees.

Left bad taste in mouth.

Now trapped in world that knows nothing of my face- that weakly watched as old guard fell away into obscurity with no one left to follow in footsteps.

Continuing to adapt to differences in city. On surface, cleaner streets and smiling faces speak of better lives.

Truth shouts differently.

No masks to protect the innocent. No heroes to inspire others; a city being choked to death by quiet corruption. Scum now free to cloak itself in respectability- the legacy of a city too pathetic to do anything about it.

Next move clear

Tonight will search for those responsible. Will grab the wretched cloak and tear; like ripping off corrosive bandage from a septic wound.

Show city it's true nature, while it writhes in the sewers and begs to forget.

* * *

Rorschach finished writing and snapped the new leather cover closed. He tucked the book in an inside coat pocket as he stared down from the rooftop.

He was surprised to find he missed the comfortable weight and conformity of his old journal. Foolish. It's purpose had been served, and if everything went well- it would prove to be his final mark on a world he would never see again.

Now he had a new city to defend, and with it, unanswered questions.

_The Crimebusters_

It ate at his mind like slow burning acid. A day spent pouring through archived newspapers showed a world of wild possibilities and shattered dreams.

A form of cold war was still in effect- but the Commies had been losing steam since 1972.

Nixon served until 1973, then resigned due to rising hostilities by liberal propaganda. Two presidents followed after him- now America was on a third.

The minutemen had existed. Had formed a coalition of masked heroes, and fought the filth of the city- just as it was and should have been.

They fought- but time wore on; until eventually each went there separate way. Some died, some went insane, others just drifted into obscurity.

That was what Rorschach could not understand- the fracturing difference between his world and this one. With so many masks, a new generation should have risen; but here, no one waited in the wings- the Minutemen's actions amounting to nothing because there were no eager souls to take up the mantle.

The Comedian, Nite Owl, even Silk Spectre- all just names left to dust and rot.

Dr. Manhattan never had the accident that remade him- and thus had no reason to be called to service. And Adrian never came to any great revelation leading to embellishing his ego with a mask; neither did this one amass the same wealth and power as the one from his world- a fact which filled Rorschach with no small degree of relief.

_Still doesn't excuse. Mass murderer in one world shows capacity in another._

Rorschach growled at the thought. He rolled back on his heels as he stood up, stretching the aches and pains out of his body; bitter reminders of his fight in Karnack. The last of the twilight had faded from the sky, and the darkness of the city had began to awaken. It was time to patrol.

The masks were not the only oddities he'd discovered. Names of people that should have been behind bars were mentioned time and time again in print. Two, primarily had caught his interest.

Big Figure and Twilight Lady.

No heroes meant no one to stop them. Rorschach snarled predatorily as he began to scale a fire escape.

No one to stop them meant small operations had grown into empires.

Filth never changes, pretending it doesn't exist is as good as giving permission. Give evil any rope, and it will merely thank you as it strangles you to death.

No- the scum never changes, never quits- so neither would he. It was time for the city to meet it's protector.

Rorschach jumped down into the alley below.

It was time to get some answers.

* * *

Walter's Journal Entry: November 3rd, 85

God, I can't even close my eyes anymore without seeing that face... The way it shifts and moves like a living thing... It's not just images of blood and snow now. No that was bad, but this is somehow much worse.

Dogs fighting over a chewed up bone. Woke up panicked and shaking... Bit down on my hand to hold back the scream and not alert Blair...

I...

* * *

Walter growled and threw his pencil down on the journal. He slammed his back against the chair and rubbed his face with both hands. Looking up at a annoyingly cheery clock on the wall, he sighed as it informed him he was down here at the ungodly hour of 4:35 in the morning.

_Thank god it's Friday... Or, well- Saturday now, actually._

Amazing what a difference a day could make. Yesterday his biggest problem was a few unpleasant dreams. Yesterday he was nothing more than a loving husband and a decent teacher.

Then came today. Today had been the day he'd walked out into the halls to find that his nightmares had become reality; that it had saved his wife and threatened him. Today had been the day when he was forced to stare into the face of something that defied explanation, only to find it staring back.

He leaned forward and reached for the dress sitting on the other side of the journal. It was his wife's new dress, the one she had worn to Daniel's party. He couldn't really say what had driven him to take it downstairs with him... As he had left the room he saw it draped across the reading chair and something about the pattern drew his attention.

Now he stared at it, placing his hand on the fabric and watching as the black substance swirled around, activated by the heat of his hand. He really couldn't say how long he stayed like that, but slowly the kitchen faded away, and everything but the floating black and white became insignificant. Eventually, an image appeared. A shifting face, resolute in it's convictions; unyielding and uncompromising.

_MY face._

Walter jerked his hand away, as if bitten. He leapt up from the table and backed away until he was pressed up against the kitchen wall. He closed his eyes as a vague wave of nausea washed over him. Even in darkness he could still see swirling patterns of black and white, mocking his weakness. He gave a small laugh, and tried to ignore the slightly hysterical sound of it.

_So... This is what losing your mind feels like..._

Walter opened his eyes, and was relieved to find his kitchen was back to feeling normal. Reaching out to reorganize the table, Walter hesitated; even the thought of touching Blair's dress put a cold chill down his spine... He opted for simply draping on the back of a chair. The journal was closed, entry left unfinished and placed on top of a bookcase situated between the living room and kitchen.

For a moment all Walter really wanted to do was find someone to talk to, someone to listen to him rant, and tell him that maybe it would be all alright in the end- that, no, he was not in fact going crazy. But the realistic, cynical part of his mind told him to be honest with himself.

_And, really, if you can't be honest with yourself, who can you be?_

Ultimately he just didn't know anyone well enough to ask for help, and although he knew Blair would listen with open ears and an non-judgemental mind, he didn't want to scare her; or face the horrible possibility that she would think he was losing it- and leave.

_This isn't just some freaky dream, not anymore. This is real- and whatever is happening, I'm on my own._

As Walter headed down the hallway, he suddenly stopped short... Because maybe that wasn't as true as he thought. Whatever was going on, the masked man had a part in it, Walter was willing to bet his life- and sanity- on it. And if anyone would be able to have answers to his questions, it would be him. Walter opened the door at the end of the hall. It was small, more of a storage area than a room. A few weights and a worn punching bag were the rooms only decor. Walter frowned as he began to wrap his hands with tape.

_Rorschach... He calls himself, Rorschach... _

And getting his assistance is going to be easier said than done. I don't know where he is, or where he's staying for one; and for another- I really don't think he likes me very much.

With the taping finished, Walter assumed a boxers stance and began taking short fast jabs at the bag. His face became cool and controlled- confident. As he warmed up the jabs increased in speed and power, and a hard, grim determination turn his soft blue eyes to steel.

_Who cares what his opinion of me is... Something's going on, and he knows what that is. It's about time I started getting some answers._

* * *

It's 4:42 in the Drieberg home- if anyone was awake to note the time. But the night does not find either resident in a restful slumber; instead both find themselves in the grips of dreams that feel more like memories- like some other realm where they had become more than what the world made of them.

For Laurie, it's the thrill of being young and immortal; being able to walk the line between hunter and hunted, causing the blood to flow faster through her veins and with every heart beat acting as a silent scream that shouts "I am alive!" It's in the electric embrace of a strong blue man-god being, and soft laughter that only those who share a secret can truly appreciate.

But it isn't all golden and true. There is the pain of a life force upon instead of chosen, of watching something loved so deeply die by degrees- knowing there is nothing you can do to stop it. It's the knowledge that you walked away because of being hated by those you protected.

It's knowing that ultimately, no matter how hard you tried, in the end, you failed.

For Daniel, it's the feeling power and control that lifts him up. The desire to serve and protect. The knowledge that with Kevlar feathers and a metal owl, he can become something more than what he is. That if you dare hard enough, a single person can make all the difference in the world. Standing on the shoulder of a past mentor, Daniel finds his place, and hundreds of miles above the city he loves- he knows that he is alive.

It's in the footsteps of a friend, always willing to watch his back with a face that never quite content to stay in one pattern. It's the late night stilted conversations at a kitchen table; neither saying much but speaking volumes.

But with every triumph, comes pain. There is the silent vigil as you watch a man shatter and crumble, and something colder and less human taking it's place. It's in watching a city slowly turn and return your kindness with snarls of rage. It's a law that say 'you can't be who you are anymore', and the faceless stranger- once friend- who lashes out and says 'you never were'.

But mostly, it's about reclaiming a lost life- and learning that it didn't matter anyway. It's written in the snow, an old fedora without an owner. A smear of blood and a man who looks so familiar telling a man who isn't really a man at all to 'Do It'.

Sleep would hold no comfort tonight, as some altered state whispered into there minds and told them that ultimately some things just can't be fixed; some damage is just to great, and the only thing something that broken can do is shatter further.

It's 4:45 by the clock on the Drieberg's mantle, but somewhere in the Cosmo's another clock ticks on, it's hands currently reading Five Minutes to Midnight.

_

* * *

_

4:56... About time the vampires started heading home... One more night beat accomplished, and all is well... As well as this hell hole gets, anyway

The watch was attached to a wrist. The wrist was attached to an arm, that's attached to a tall, lean man. At first glance, you would think he was no different than most wandering at this time of night; in fact, he was the type of man who had 'thug' written all over him.

It whispered the word to you as you noticed the bulge of a gun resting in his belt. At the worn leather jacket with stitching that suggests more than a few knife fights, and workers boots- which are not so useful to a man who walks all night for a living, but extremely helpful when hostel faces meet a steel toed kick.

It spoke to you in the slightly unkempt, aging brown hair and cool blue eyes- which all but dared you to try something. It was suggested in his large frame- 6 foot 4 in total- and the way that, while he may appear lean, it didn't take long to realize that what lied beneath the skin was muscle formed from action and experience; that bulk might mean power to some, but that this one preferred a measure of speed and agility.

Mostly it screamed at you because of the weathered nature of the man, of a constant 5 o'clock shadow, and the deep lines of scaring running across the right side of his face. Faded from age, but no less impressive. In anyone else, that could make them ugly- in him, it made him distingished.

And, if truth be told, there a some who would tell you no different... That the man was a no good thug who really should be removed from the streets.

But this was Hells Kitchen, and around here, the man was simply known as Gabriel Mars; a plain clothes cop who had learned a long time ago that a desk was no place for a real police officer- that sometimes you just had to go out and get down in the dirt and grime with the rest of the trash if you wanted to get something done.

,

* * *

While most people ran from the area, Gabriel stubbornly continued walking his beat. It was more than just a matter of pride, however; he had been born and raised in this neighbourhood- he'd be damned if he was going to allow the mob to take anymore of his town without a fight.

_Momma always did say I was too scrappy for my own good..._

He turned a corner, and eyed up five young girls sticking close together. Just another group working there trade. Walking past Gabriel gave them nod and a pleasant smile; four returned it shyly, but the boldest one- cherry- flashed him a dazzling smile and a good natured 'hiya, Gab'.

Honestly, he could tell you the names- street names, at least- of every hooker in Hells Kitchen; he'd long ago started thinking of them as 'his' girls. The ones that society had fucked up so badly that this was the best option in there minds; he felt for them- and in doing so, appointed himself as guardian.

Most people who weren't chewing on a piece of the eye candy would make a point of acting outraged, or some self-righteous pity. He'd long ago learned that a little civility never hurt anyone; that a few kind words- and occasionally laying the beat down on someone who got a little too rough- often paid there weight in gold.

More than a few tips and leads that resulted in major busts had been handed down from 'his' girls. Because while they may put themselves on display ever night, most people didn't think anything of chatting it up around them- figuring them for dumb whores who couldn't dress themselves properly, let along understand the complicated lifestyles of the underworld.

_Idiots._

The reality is, you don't live the nightlife very long if you don't pay attention and trust your instincts; that went for crooks and cops alike.

And when a high pitch scream ripped through the evening air, it was that mixture of insight and instinct that allowed Gabriel to know exactly where to run. Slamming into a wall as he round a corner, he lunged into a dark alley way- knowing that time was not his friend here, and the element of surprise was his greatest weapon. This was his neighbourhood, and he was prepared for anything.

Well... At least he thought he was.

In truth, 25 years on the job had earned him a sense of 'been there, done that, outlived the t-shirt' bragging rights. That pretty much went straight to shit when he reached the middle of the alleyway, and saw an unconscious female victim- alive, thank god- several gang members lying either dead or dying on the pavement, and a short little whirlwind in a trench coat, fedora, and MASK pounding the hell out of the few remaining thugs. One idiot got too close, and was picked up like a rag doll, flipped upside down and slammed head first into the pavement; far away as he was, even Gabriel could hear the cracking of the punks skull and neck.

Gabriel was not a man to sit back and let someone else do the work, but he doubted at this moment he'd be able to do anything but stand slack-jawed and stare- even if someone lit a stick of dynamite under his feet.

_Damn it all... This guys is GOOD... and fast! Where the hell did you learn moves like that?_

What had intended to be a 11 person gang rape, was now a full on blood bath. Eight Iron Dragons down, three more to go. And Gabriel may have just been content to stand and watch them eat asphalt, if it wasn't for catching a glimpse of two more thugs out of his peripheral vision; and while two more guys may not make much of a difference from what he'd seen of this guys capabilities, the fact the little hellion didn't seem to know about them might.

_Can't let him have all the fun, anyways._

Gabriel didn't figure they'd seen him yet, and he wasn't about to change that by crying out. Instead he launched himself full tilt towards the nearest new intruder and bull rushed him straight into a metal dumpster. There wasn't much remorse from his end when the thug responded with sharp cry of pain and crackling of bones.

It had the desired effect, though. Now the gang members backed up, re-assessing there situation. The man in the mask whipped around, growling like an animal. The light wasn't ideal in the alley, but Gabriel was given his first good look at the fighters face... Or lack of one. It gave away no features of what lied underneath, it's black and white design shifting constantly like some ink-blot pattern from Hell.

It SCARED him! And, damn it, he didn't like being scared.

And if it wasn't for the remaining four thugs, he may have drawn his weapon and levelled it at this guy on principle alone. But they WERE surrounded by thugs, and that lead to a natural course of action.

He pulled his service weapon and pointed it at the face of the largest gang member. He then looked around at the others as he exposed the police badge attached to his belt. He looked each of them in the eye making sure to get across the 'I eat people like you for breakfast' point as he stared. And for the hell of it, he gave a little of that glare to the masked one as well- although the disguise made it impossible to tell exactly where his eyes were. In both cases he was please to see he got the result he desired.

Each of the thugs backed away, slightly raising there hands up and away from their sides. The mask figure step around, covering his back and doing his best impression of a rapid dog just waiting to be taken off the leash; whatever fight was left in the gang disappeared the moment they realized the only thing holding the guy back was Gabriel's say so.

guy thinks fast on his feet, I'll give him that... Jeez, half tempted just to let the little bastard finish the job- not like anyone will complain.

Sometimes, Gab had to admit- at least to himself- that the badge was both a blessing and a curse. It meant he could uphold the law and fight the battles that needed fighting- it also meant that he couldn't always do what he knew needed to be done. So, instead of turning a blind eye, he levelled his gaze at the big guy and coldly spoke.

"You the one running this little troop?"

The guy nodded, meeting the gaze with one of his own. Gabriel didn't react, he just continued.

"You know who I am?"

Another nod. Gabriel stepped forward quickly, slamming the thug into the wall and pressing the gun into his forehead. The attitude was gone- now the bastard was scared. Gabriel rewarded him with a smile that would make a shark edgy.

"Good. Then you know it's no idol threat when I tell you I NEVER want to see any of your faces in my neighbourhood again." He stepped closer, bringing himself nose to nose with the thug. "Because if I DO see any of you again, there will be no warning shots, no police reports; you'll just never be seen again. Another cold statistic about the violent life of gang members... Clear?"

The thug nodded again. Apparently, the ability to communicate verbally was not a requirement for Iron dragons upper management.

"Great... Fuck off."

Verbal communication- no. The ability to run- clearly a must.

With the threat gone, Gabriel holstered his weapon and turned around to look at the masked figure again. He was standing a good distance away, head tilted to one side and his hands buried in his pockets; the figure was also studying him- which was another thing Gabriel was not used to. So he walked over to the woman, checking for any serious injuries; she was lucky- the masked guy must have been close by.

Gabriel looked back. the guy seemed content with staring. So, he gave him a crooked grin.

"Soooo... I'm going out on a limb here and assuming your new in town?"

The figure didn't say anything for a moment, just made a kind of noise in the back of his throat; it sounded almost contemplative. When he did speak, Gabriel decided he knew why the guy was so quiet- clearly he gargled every morning with ground up glass.

"Let them go. Why?"

Gabriel shrugged.

"Not worth my while. I bring them in, they're back on the streets in under four hours. I leave them to your tender mercies, and I've compromised the principles behind the badge... And, yes, I'll be the first to admit how much of a joke that is in this city- but it still means something to me."

Gabriel snorted, humourlessly. "In the long run, the best thing for me to do is let them go. That way I can follow them and see where they take me... A few punks can be ignored- but get a decently sized group, and enough dirt- and the NYPD have no choice but to do something... Public Relations and all that."

While talking, Gabriel had taken off his coat. Now lifted the unconscious woman and wrapped the jacket around her bare arms. He placed her on a wooden crate- at least it was cleaner than the ground. Gabriel continued, surprising himself by feeling a strange sort of kinship with the masked figure, and it made him feel generous.

"Your new in town- so let me give you some advice. You clearly know how to handle yourself- and your not weak... But this city will eat you alive and spit out your bones if your not careful. So pick your battles carefully; and when you do fight, make damn sure you don't stop till it's over. The streets are a warzone, no matter what they say, so learn the ins and outs quickly. You'll also want to find a few people you can rely on, because trust me, you'll need them... Oh- and Hell's Kitchen is my beat, I'm the resident guardian of sorts. Which means two things. One, if you need any information, I'll either have it- or know where you can get it. Secondly, if it turns out your just another piece of trash with delusions of grandeur, I'll fuck you up eleven ways from Sunday."

Gabriel couldn't be sure, but as he pulled out his two-way to call in the report, the masked figure seemed to nod somewhat approvingly; so he did what came naturally. He offered his new 'friend' his hand.

"Mars. Gabriel Mars."

The figure didn't take his hand, or offer any sort of name back; but he did let out ever so slightly some of the tension in his body- which Gabriel decided probably was as good as a hug in this guys mentality. For his part, the guy nodded towards Gabriel's radio.

"What will you report."

Gabriel Shrugged. "Her. Them. YOU... Don't exactly have much to go on- and while the mask makes things interesting, I don't expect them to bring down a lot of heat for a guy waging a one man war on a bunch of punks."

"Claim to know the city. Want location of Big figure."

Now that did bring Gabriel up short. For a moment he just starred, then he threw his head back and laughed.

_Well... He's ballsy... Stupid- but ballsy._

"WOW! You really go the throat, don't you?.. Okay- first of all, Big Figure owns half the city- and that includes people- so there's a lot of places he could be. Secondly, he's not stupid- so rushing in is just going to get you killed... That being said, the best place to START would be 'Club Noire'"- Gabriel turned and pointed North, out of the alley- "about three blocks back. Sometimes his enforcers party there... Now, I've GOT to call this in, so I suggest you make yourself scarce-"

Turning back, he realized he was wasting his breath... The masked figure was gone.

So, Gabriel did his job and called it in. Sure enough, there was more than a little scepticism on the other end; he didn't blame them- he was here and he almost didn't believe it.

* * *

"Say again, Mars- WHO attacked the gang?"

Gabriel went to describe the masked figure once again... But something stopped him. It wasn't quite like déjà vu, almost more of a memory- like pieces of an imaginary puzzle sliding into place. It was a simple image... A man tied to a fire hydrant with a mirrored reverse 'r' symbol written on a piece of cardboard... Below it was one word 'neveR'. the image meant nothing to him- and yet at the same time a name clicked into place, and Gabriel knew enough about his instincts to know that he was totally and completely right in his assumption.

"Rorschach... He calls himself Rorschach."


	5. Theo Little by shoeychocolatXD

alright, hey guys, i have a new chappy for yall, this one is ME and we are finally getting to some plot. although HOLY EXPOSITION BATMAN it is all exposition. new charaters, old ones and some more ocs that happen, P.S. no mary sues for our dear rorschach. we couldnt let that happen now could we.

it was off to a bumpy start but we will remedy that, and

ON WITH THE SHOW!

* * *

Damnit, she fumed, _the hero cop come see his old pal the whores daughter huh, well it isn't that I can't stand for myself but he had to see to it that I fell_.

_I had to fall in love with that hero cop, ten years he had been out of my life and saving people in hells kitchen. Content to walk around and help all of them but her. Didn't he have anything better to do?_

Her life changed when she met Gabriel Mars years ago but Theodora Little didn't exactly know how or why. All she knew is that it did. She had been 17 then. The daughter of a whore and trying to make it out of the rotten core of the big apple.

* * *

June 24,1966

"Theodora Little"

The door to her one bedroom apartment creeped open a little bit to reveal a cop standing in her hallway looking uncomfortable and slightly sick.

"Yes"

"There was an accident, your mother was murdered."

What to do, what to think, she all but lost it when the young cop said that. Murder, an accident? How long had he been living here to realize that murder was definatly not an accident? Especially not her mother's murder. it was no secret what she did and more importantly who she did it with. it was probably a dissatisfied john or her pimp, it could have even been a thug who wanted his share, without the fair part of it.

"an accident? How is murder even classified as an accident?"

She surveyed the cop that stood at her door step, he was tall, taller than she would ever be, he looked new, tough but new, like he grew up here but didn't have enough experience in the cop business to be good at it. The door she hid behind creaked open all the way to reveal her. Even though it gave him a good look at her, it gave her an even better look at him. He did look young, wasn't much more than twenty six if it was her guess. he was 6'4 with unkempt brown hair and baby blue eyes. He looked uncomfortable. Like he didn't want to be there. He probably expected to see a distraught young teenager. He never would have expected a tough young woman. His face was plastered with grim determination.

"well what are you waiting for, are you gonna come in or aren't you?"

He started as if in his own little world and before he could say no she dragged him in and shut the door. He hesitated a moment before he walked into he small apartment. he looked around as if checking for no illegal activities before he sat down on her crummy floral patterned couch. Theo walked into the adjacent kitchen, leaving him alone for a second; he looked on her table to find a picture of a woman and a young girl. He could only assume that the young girl was Theodora and the woman her mother. They looked alike but not startlingly so. The picture matched the body of the woman that they had found two hours ago. He was startled out of his reverie when her voice floated out to him from the direction she went.

"Do you want something to drink?"

Theo walked out to the living room holding a jug of milk and a glass.

_Mom wasn't the best of homemakers and certainly not the nicest person but she did instill a sense of manners into me._

"Um no thank you"

"Well suit yourself then, I do have orange juice if you want some"

"Ok"

She went back into the kitchen and came out a few seconds later balancing two glasses of orange juice. She set his down in front of him on the coffee table and walked over to the shelf that held pictures of her and her mother.

"I never knew my father, mom said he went off to war and never came back. His name was Charlie Little and she kept one picture of him, it is right over here."

Theo reached for a picture of a man and a woman, he was handsome, he was tall and had thick black hair. She gazed t it before she handed it to him. He took it and gave it a quick look before handing it back to her.

"You look a lot like him"

"You think so?"

Theo walked over to the couch and situated herself on the worn old cushion beside the man before saying anything. She scolded herself for making him uncomfortable but it was way better than having him stand out in her hallway attracting attention from the neighbors. Not that it mattered what they thought. Mrs. Calvinisky was a drug addict and probably to baked to notice even a train coming through her living room and Tree, the other neighbor, was out with his group probably going to a Jimi Hendrix concert or finding his way to the next vietnam protest.

"How did she die?"

"She was shot; it was in the alley way right beside Happy Harry's bar."

"I bet happy Harry wasn't to happy about that"

he looked at her with a mixture of confusion and shock when she joked, it wasn't a laughing matter and for god sakes that woman was her mother.

"Before you start preaching to me about respecting my mother, just remember this, you haven't got a right in the world to get angry at me. She was my mother, yes, but was she a good one, No. she found comfort in the bottom of a bottle and the johns she brought home every night. Sometimes she was a good mother, she did tell me stories when I was little and she wasn't drunk. And before you give me a look, I did love her, and her getting killed wasn't a surprise to me. It was probably an angry john or her pimp."

"Life isn't easy for any of us sweet heart, I wasn't gonna preach to you, ive lived this life too, I was just confused that's all."

She adjusted her seat on the couch to face him.

"Thank you for coming here, i know dealing with family can be hard, but when you catch the guy who did it, give me a ring, I would like to know"

He got up off of the couch and she followed suit, when he reached the door he held his hand out to her, she took it and they shook hands. He turned to leave but as if on an afterthought he turned around again.

"The name is Gabriel Mars, just so you know"

"Ok, Theodora Little, just call me Theo"

* * *

"Damnit, Damnit, and Damnit" she sat on the chair in her little kitchen and thought about the news he had brought. And what had been bothering her long before that. She walked around her small apartment and wondered about Gabriel. She barely paid attention to the noise outside of her window. Dogs barked, sirens sounded and the cries of a dying city called out to her to be a hero. She walked through her small kitchen; barely noticing when she stepped on her news paper, the New York Times, it read, VILIGANTE STRIKES AGIAN, news of Rorschach was all she heard nowadays. Ever since he showed up a week ago guns a blazin' he took the world by storm.

_Death, that is what I will call myself, like the four horseman of the apocalypse. I can't do it alone, not little old me. I need others. Three others to be exact. To fill the hole of war, famine and plague. But I don't know who?_ determination sparked to life in her eyes, the brown they usually were changed to black.

_Im going to need to go back to the gym, I could get out my old boxing gloves and go a few rounds with Michael, if he is still there that is._ Two years is a long time to miss going to the gym. Working out of course, was never missed.

_Maybe Gabriel would do it. He was such a good man to all of us. And he is strong, he would jump at the chance. maybe. _

Her costume lay out on her kitchen table. Plain to the world. Or who ever looked through her window, which would be a little hard since her 10 story apartment looked past an alley to a roof.

She thought back to the prophetic meeting with Gabriel, he really had changed in ten years, a lot had.

**"You haven't seen me in ten years and all you can say is what do you want"**

**"Gabriel…"**

**"How come you don't call me gabs any more"**

**"Gabe I don't know what brought you here but I want to know why."**

**"the new guy, the vigilante, last night I was walking my beat in hells kitchen and I found him beating on 11 or so guys who thought it would be fun to play around with Grace."**

**"Grace, you mean Grace Holloway?"**

**"Yeah, she was going a little off the beaten path there and apparently they thought it would be fun"**

**"Yeah but this guy?"**

**"He calls himself Rorschach"**

**"This guy Rorschach, he just happened to be there?"**

**"You should have seen it Theo, he took them all down in a span of a few seconds, I have never seen a man move as fast as he does"**

**"And that is a bad thing?, he saved Grace's life?"**

**"Im not exactly saying that he did a good thing but you know as well as I do that we need more people like him"**

That is it, more people like him, the world needed a hero, who was she to deny them one. When Gabriel left, she got her old swat team clothes out and found her old black heavy duty cargo jacket.

_Well if this Rorschach can do it, why cant I? Didn't Gabe say that the world needs more people like that._

She did have experience in fighting, 6 years on the swat team and even more karate and survival lessons instilled that into her. Her entire life after meeting Gabe was made to resemble a training camp. Karate lessons, weekly gym workouts, a job at the police department as a member of the swat team. All of that evaporated ten years ago. It was Gabe who wanted her to do all of this, they did have a life together, just not a romantic one.

_I should have said I liked him; all we did was become friends._

_Oh well, It is all well said than done._

She decided to put on her costume, in a few days, a week at the most she would need it. she needed to coordinate it, to make sure it gave the desired effect.

_Maybe it is time for me to be a hero, to save try to save us all?_

Once in the costume she looked at herself in the full length mirror beside her bath tub.

The cargo pants swat boots and cargo jacket hung loosely on her small curvatious form. No one would know she was a female; they would have too much fun with it.

_Let's not have them get their rocks off too easily._

She was short too, not exactly the tallest person around; at 5'4 she barely reached anyone's height at all.

_Mom always said that I was a midget, but that I was beautiful too._

She didn't believe that, the midget part, yes, the beautiful part, no. her features where interesting but not beautiful. Her hair was a black color, but not naturally so, naturally it was brown like her almost black but still very brown eyes.

_I have the perfect mask and with those round workman's goggles I would look pretty scary. But I still need a way to talk with out anyone knowing. I need a partner too, Rorschach works alone so he is out of the question but who? _

Maybe gabe would, but why should she ask him. The answer was simple, she trusted him.

Her revere was startled by a ring. She walked over to her telephone and picked it up, it wasn't a good time and she was ready to yell in that bastards face if it was another telemarketer. But when she found out who it was, it was ok with her.

**"Hello"**

**"Hey Theo, you heard about this vigilante guy, Rorschach?"**

It was he longtime friend Gizmo. He was the tech manager at the police department and a certified genius, if you would have ever met one. He was egotistical but loyal. Trust was a hard thing for him to gain. Gabriel never liked him, no one really did. He was tall and thin. He kept his hair short and his fighting skills strict.

**"Yeah, Gabriel stopped by and told me about him he said he met him, saw him take down 11 guys in a few seconds"**

**"Gabe stopped by? No shit? Well Rorschach must have scared him pretty good them if it made him see you."**

**"What is that supposed to mean Gizzy?**

**"Well the last time he saw you was when he got shot in 75"**

**"Well that doesn't mean... ok whatever; how is it going with the guys?"**

**"What do you mean, the guys on the force"**

**"Well I know the guys are still kinda racially prejudiced."**

**"Yeah still a lot of racial discrimination, can't keep a black man down huh"**

Gizmo was among other things, racially beat down, the cops, especially that district, could get pretty prejudiced at times, and she was his only friend there. Gabriel wasn't prejudiced, he just hated him. Which was fine by giz, he couldn't care either way.

**"Thanks for calling but I wanted to talk to you anyway"**

**"About what?"**

**"Do you still have any of those voice changers?"**

**"You know I do"**

**"Can you modify one to fit around the neck?"**

**"Well yeah but that would be pretty bulky"**

**"I want it small and hidden"**

**"What is this for?"**

**"You will see, when is the soonest you can get it to me?"**

**"In a couple days"**

**"Thanks Giz"**

**"(Sigh) bye Theo"**

* * *

Rorschach's journal, November 5th 1985

Alleyways sit in every corner blood leaks from them daily

Extra reminder of how this world is same underneath it all.

They call for innocents to come near, to be sucked up in the cold harsh deaths they will receive.

Innocents walk in and most never come out

It is time to see the others. Naive little Walter no help to figuring out what happened. Need to find Dr. Manhattan, only one who can send me back to expose Ozymandias in other world. If stuck here, then need to take down twilight lady and big figure. Eradicated scum once before, no doubt it can be done again.

Need to find others.

Going to see Daniel first.

* * *

I sit on mars and look over the world. I have sworn never to go back there and that is what I will do. Return is not foreseen in my eminent future. The strings pull me elsewhere. The world I have sent Rorschach to has already felt his presence and is adjusting accordingly.

The hole I have ripped through both universes is expanding; it will meld both of them together at one point. It will not happen for another hundred years. When a man in what is now the united kingdom puts on a guy fawkes mask and dies in the arms of his one true love.

The hole cannot be fixed.

I look at both worlds simultaneously. In one, there are two Walter Kovacs' Dan and Laurie are happy. Everyone I know is happy. Even I am happy. I am happy with my current lover.

In my original universe, we are all alone. Rorschach is dead, comedian is dead, Hollis Mason is dead and Adrian and I are alone.

I see my past, my present, my future and even things that have not happened yet and never will they happen to me.

I look at Laurie for the first time.

Janey hands me a cold perspiring glass of beer.

A man named v saves a woman named evey.

Rorschach does not save Blaire Roche

My incident occurs.

A girl named Suzy Wilson was born.

Walter kovacs asks Blaire Roche to marry him

New York was blown up.

Suzy Wilson was not.

She stands by me, just like me, and gives me comfort that Janey and Laurie could not.

The worlds are already melding in my mind.

Suzy sees it to, she is just like me, the explosion affected her the way it affected me, she is mine now, a miracle like oxygen turning into gold. She is alone, just like me, and yet, she is not and never will be.

We are all alone.


	6. Requiem For a Dream by cyberbutterfly

GOOD GOD MAN, shortest chapter my ass, this thing was long, but it also made me squee because i loved it. it got my creative cogs a working,

now i present to you, a new chapter written by cyberbutterfly.

* * *

The growling from the dogs filled the yard, the house, filled his mind.

Inside he stood in the kitchen, a dark, dank, stinking waste- unsuitable for animals, never mind a human. He walked over to a cutting board permanently stained red; a Cleaver deeply imbedded in the wood.

Outside the dogs continued bark and growl- fighting over the remains of a bone.

He travelled farther into the house, a dark foreboding working a chill down his spine. He turned to the basement door, taking out a flashlight, he shone it towards the stairs. It didn't penetrate far- as if the blackness at the bottom wasn't a natural shadow but a vile living thing.

He started to walk down, not quite sure if he even wanted to go down there. The quiet spoke to loud, whispered things too hateful to contemplate; accused in a steady voice 'too .' At the bottom he panned around with the flashlight.

Then the light stream fell on a boiler- and a piece of fabric, a shade and colour far to bright for the twisted sickness of the house.

He wheeled back, breathing hard- he had to get out of there, before the evil of the house cut him to the bone. He raced upstairs, not caring about stealth- he needed to. Get. Out. He stumbled into the kitchen, where the cleaver and board gleamed with an unnatural light- as if illuminated with unholy fire.

He didn't notice as a single snow flake drifted by his head; slowly drifting down in a calm spiral. In the kitchen he didn't notice as it got colder, and the grim of the house seemed to sift to the white of snow. He didn't notice the cold; something colder was already creeping into him

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think... The only thing that seemed to penetrate the fog was the deep growl of the dogs.

The dogs... The dogs who still fought over a large bone- meat still hanging off it... The cleaver stained with something dark and foul...

He almost fell- but he didn't know if he'd ever get up again if he did; part of him hoped he wouldn't.

_Oh, God..._

NO!... There is no god... Not anymore...

He did fall to his knees, but it was not death that rose up to greet him; instead, something far darker and older... He felt it bite into him, tearing away his being with teeth that burned and froze. Oh, he was dying, that was clear- just not the sweet embrace of eternal sleep; it was the painful rebirth of some new creation.

There, in the bowels of hell, and the snows of Karnack he stood tall, a figure of terror. An avenging angel of death. Warmth of a new kind flooded his system, hatred heating him in a way nothing else ever would again.

He snarled, a sound more vicious than any animal would be capable of, as he sprung to his feet. He ripped the knife out of the wood and walked towards the backyard- he kicked his way through the door.

Two yelps echoed through the house, and then all was silent... In the kitchen, snow continued to drift down, and somewhere in the distance a voice screams, begging a man who would play god to end what was started so long ago.

_

* * *

_

DO IT!

Walter lunge up from the sofa, sweat soaking through his wife beater; his legs buckled and his hands and knees slammed hard onto the floor. He gasped for air, shaking so violently it felt more like being ripped apart.

_Oh, god..._

He leapt to his feet as his stomach lurched, and raced from the living room into the bathroom. What little dinner he'd eaten promptly vacated his stomach.

It was a while before Walter dared pull himself shakily away from the toilet bowl, and even then he simply pulled himself over to the bathtub and, using the sides for support, wedged himself into a corner while bringing his knees up to his chin.

Emotions were never one of Walter's strong points. In the orphanage showing any kind of strong reaction meant making yourself a target for the bigger kids; so he tended to either display them quietly, or bury them deep.

But the dreams- that were really memories of another life lived- shouted louder and louder in his mind; painting pictures that no one should be forced to see. And Walter found that even his most well built defences crumbled to ash around him.

There, on his bathroom floor, Walter did what Rorschach would never allow himself to; he wrapped his hands around his head, and wept deep, heart wrenching sobs for the duel loss of little girls life, and a broken man's soul.

* * *

The young woman walked slowly down the street, her breath swirling around her head like wispy ghosts in the cold winter air; she sang a wordless tune with a haunting melody.

She was small, and had features that could almost be described as 'dainty'. This was made even more pronounced by the scarf wrapped around her head and throat, and coat she wore; it was a mans coat, and while it may have been mid-length on it's intended wearer, it dragged on the ground as she walked. A equally oversized bag hung off her small frame.

In every step and motion she told the story of a little girl trying to play grown up. In any other city, this may have been considered enduring and cute. But in the cold, predatory blackness of New York, it simply gave her the label of 'victim'.

The girl skipped on, foolishly turning into a blind alley; seemingly unaware of the two pairs of eyes watching her as she moved. The eyes belonged to two males, both of whom bore matching tattoos and colours. The taller one looked to the other and smiled, the smaller one smiled back. They had a job to do, and a quota to fill; and a young, easy mark was simply the sign of the city being generous.

Senka had always enjoyed reading- and while she loved the escape that fiction offered, she also read an equal amount of non-fiction. History and nature provided insight and training that would otherwise be left to hard earned experience.

For instance, take the Zone Tailed Hawk. A bird that's shape- from the air- and movement mimics that of a vultures. For this reason, ground animals do not become alarmed as it circles; a vulture only eats dead meat. It is a fatal mistake for the prey- but useful disguise for the predator.

Then there's the Sabre-Toothed Blend Fish. A creature that looks like a harmless cleaner fish- which allows it to get close to various swimmers. Several rows of sharp teeth then rip chunks from its victims.

Now, as she walked into the alley, Senka regarded her fellow animal kin with appreciation. She was young, but it was easy to make herself appear younger; a well honed hunter looking to all the world like an innocent child.

Somewhere on the street, one of the gang members foot kicked a rock. It was a faint noise, but Senka was on full alert, and she knew that they had taken the bait. Two reckless gangsters whose only interest was making some fast cash; disregarding the lives of the children they snatched for the mobs newest enterprise... Child Prostitution.

_It's time!_

She speeded up her pace, going deeper into the shadows of the alley. They had come after her, the child... It was time to meet the monster.

Animals had taught her the art of disguise, but it was her papa's stories that taught her how to hunt. They taught her to become something more than herself; that when the city's evil was no longer fearful, you had counter and put the fear back in them.

The coat was removed, and the bag dropped. Underneath she wore loose, faded black pants, with matching black work boots, and a shirt that was made from dark grey burlap. A belt was fastened tightly around her middle laced together from leather and bone; a small sack hung off the right side. Over her shirt was a brown leather vest, with various trinkets attached; a small birds skull, dried chickens feet, pins, and a small, strange stick figure made with twisted branches.

She slipped on a pair of tight black leather gloves, and removed a mask and jacket from the bag, slipping them on as a voice whispered down the alley.

"Dude, this way... she went down here."

snickering.

"Stupid little bitch."

Senka smiled as she pulled up the mask and slipped the full length worn and ripped coat- this was almost too easy.

_'Tebe pizdets, Zhopas'_

It wasn't so much of a curse, as it was a promise, she would make sure of that. She adjusted the mask on her face, and suddenly Senka become less, and the creature inside took over.

The cool calmness, the shedding of all fears, and the knowledge that victory would be hers. Senka was gone; now there was only the embodiment of fear- the Baba Yaga- the bogeyman. The creature that stalked in the darkness.

The two 'victims' came around the corner and stopped dead in there tracks. Under the mask, she smiled dangerously, and gave the two a slight bow of the head.

_They call me Wraith... Feed me with your fear, let me play my symphony with your screams._

She knew it was the mask... It was a simple sewing job. Just a piece of black sack cloth and some thin strips of leather. She'd ignored eye holes in favour of intimidation, and the leather spreading out in the mockery of a dead mans grin only accented the horror of what she'd become. She pulled a black hood over her head and stepped deep into the shadows. One of the thus snorted

"You want to play Halloween, bitch, it that it?.. Come a little closer, we've got a treat for you to suck on."

Made bolder by there words, the thugs pulled knives out of pockets and step deeper into the shadows. Wraith circled quietly, anger growing by the second at seeing the weapons.

_WEAK!... Cowardly... MUACKS! Hiding behind steel because they're too pathetic to face me alone._

She waited a beat, then rushed along the side of the alley, running up the side of a wall, and jumping onto a dumpster, getting enough height to be a few feet above there heads. She came down hard, landing on the tallest thugs shoulders and driving a knee into his head. The choking scream, and cracking sound as he hit the ground was music to her ears.

She didn't give the other time to react. Instead she lunged forward and brought a fist to his throat. Pressing her advantage, she grabs the wrist holding the knife, and brought her other hand to the same arms elbow. Locking into place, she wrenched back, snapping both the wrist and elbow. Letting go, she spun around until she was behind, using his forward momentum to drive his head into the opposite wall.

He went down hard. Wraith stared at him for a minute and then unlaced his shoes, pulling at the laces until they were free in her hands. She bound his arms and legs tightly together.

Then, she waited.

Ten minutes later the thug regained consciousness. Two seconds after that he was doing everything possible to shuffle away from her. Wraith simply stomped on his stomach, causing him to curl up. She crotched down and leaned her face near to him.

""Names... I want names..."

She wheezed the words out- sounding like something that was dead and only vaguely remember what a voice should sound like. The thugs eyes widened, and he tried jerking away from her.

"Who man?... fuckin' hell man, whatever you want to know..."

She leaned farther into his face.

"Children being taken and sold to the streets... Give me NAMES..."

The street was quiet tonight... It respected the underworlds desire for privacy. So no one listened in as a frantic voice babbled everything it knew; no one twisted in horror at the cut off scream and sickening snap that every creature instinctively knew meant another prey creature had been caught in a hunters claws.

No one was there to comment on a girl- far too young to wander alone at this time of night- who left the alley to walk slowly down the street- wearing a coat far too large, and a bag much too big.

The city simply continued as normal as the predator skipped away, her breath swirling around her head like wispy ghosts in the cold winter air; a mouth most would describe as 'dainty' humming wordless tune with a haunting melody.

* * *

"... So there we were, sitting in the middle of a shot up warehouse, and all Bryon says to me is 'Okay- from this point on, we just assume anything titled 'Plan A' is never going to work'."

Hollis slapped his knee laughing, his eyes shining at the pleasant memory, as Dan shakes his head and chuckled right along with him.

"So, which alphabet lettered plan did tend to work?"

"Hell, kid- none of them... We were more of a 'wing-it and pray' kind of group."

Daniel and Hollis looked at each other for a moment more, and then burst out laughing once again. Daniel picked up the beer that was in front of him and finished the last of it. He looked at Hollis fondly and smiled; his eyes saw past him to the framed, aging newspaper clippings that hung on the wall. The smile faded.

Hollis looked at Daniel for a minute, and then set down his beer. He leaned back in his chair and pointed at Dan.

"So, you ready to tell me why you REALLY came here tonight- or do I have to assault you with a few more stories concerning the 'good ol' days' before you man up?"

Daniel sighed, and leaned back in his own chair. He looked up at the ceiling, organizing his thoughts, no easy task considering the combination of sleep deprivation and one massive headache.

_Damn... I think I've skipped drunk and went straight to hangover._

"You ever stop and wonder at what could have been? You know, the times that if you'd just made just one different decision, how everything could have changed?"

Hollis frowned

"Sure, sometimes. But I've also learned that a man could go crazy if he spent all his time on the 'might-have-bin's'... Why, you've got a case of them?"

Daniel mimic the frown and rubbed his face with his hands; his gaze never left the comforting blankness of the ceiling.

"Hmmm... Sort of... More like- dreams..." He looked at Hollis, "But they feel like something else... Like somewhere my life might have actually meant something" Daniel snorted and shook his head "Hell, I don't know... Seven days with a grand total of ten hours sleep can't be helping... Just... I mean, when I first came to you, I had all sorts of ideas... Why didn't they amount to anything?"

"Because your smart, sensible, and listened..." Hollis leaned towards Dan "There's a reason why I talked you out of becoming a mask... Sure, it's a blast in the beginning- but then you start seeing too much, and you can't let it go anymore. You begin to forget why you put the costume on in the first place, and it starts getting harder and harder to separate yourself from the mask- and then it eats you alive... Just look at the us- we're either dead, Looney, or washed up."

"Retired, sure... Washed up, I don't think so... Shit- you were right then, and your probably still right, now..." Daniel sighed wistfully, "But that ship I designed... That could have been cool."

Another beat went by, and both men chuckled again; and if there was slight sadness in it, neither made a point of noticing.

"Well... For what it's worth- you would have made one hell of a Nite Owl."

Daniel looked down at the coffee table as a bead of condensation ran down the side of the glass beer bottle. A piece of the dream- more of a memory actually- floating to the surface.

_"Yeah... Those were good times... What happened?"_

_"You quit."_

He sighed and got up, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair; the weight of decisions that weren't his to claim pushing down and making him want to run, to get away; making him face the truth.

"No... Probably not."

* * *

Rorschach looked at the outside of the house, unease playing at his nerves; this hadn't been his first choice. Originally, he had taken the old route- the one that lead through the drains and into the owls nest.

_Stupid. Should have known better._

There was no path, because there was no owls nest... No masks, meant no Nite Owl II; Daniel was just another fat, middle aged victim-waiting- to- happen with his head in the sand. Sure, HIS Nite Owl had quit- but at least his had tried. What good to him was the assistance of a man who never knew him, and had never cared enough to fight?

_Potential there. Hero in one world means capacity in other._

Rorschach nodded to no one, decision made. He braced himself as he lifted one foot and drove his heel into the door, right where frame met lock. He walked in, shutting the door as tightly as possible, given it's condition. He headed for the kitchen and rummaged through the pantry; there were no canned beans, or Sweet Chariot sugar cubes. Rorschach growled in frustration and added 'Poor Host' to his ever increasing list of faults to this Daniel.

He eventually selected a can of heat and serve soup, fetched a spoon, and sat down at the kitchen table; a current newspaper covering most of one side. Rorschach grabbed it and looked at the front; he startled when he read the top.

**The New Frontiersmen**

It had always been a point of mild tension between them. He, on days he was feeling polite, called Daniel's paper 'liberal garbage'. Daniel in turn made a habit of shunning his newspaper of choice. Now here it sat, the only paper on display.

Rorschach looked at the cover and snorted. In his world, he rarely ever made the front page- he was too 'old news' for that. It seems in this place, he was something of a celebrity. While it would eventually get annoying, for now if it helped further his reputation he wouldn't complain.

He read through that article, as well as several others. In each, he was happy to see that- in light of all other changes- at least his paper continued to take a hard edged approach to the corruption and crime on the streets... While other papers talked of reform and rebuilding, it was nice to see that one paper showed the city for the farce it is.

It was page three that gave Rorschach pause. It mentioned a major gang related drug bust; the name attached to the bust caught his eye.

_Gabriel Mars._

Rorschach really didn't know what to make of the man; still wondering whether he was worth a second glance, never mind any kind of trust.

Clearly, he was devoted to protecting the innocents- going as far as his law would allow. And he wasn't weak... It had been genuine fear on the filths face when he realized who had stepped into the fight. And, if Rorschach was completely honest, he'd been impressed when- rather than being afraid- he'd actually been _Amused_ by Rorschach's presence... Going as far as giving him advice- something he _didn't _need; and directions- something he _did_.

Looking back down at the paper, Rorschach was pleased to see he had been true to his word, and used the surviving gangsters to route out a deeper problem. Unfortunately, also true to his word, the so called 'police force' released them after an officer apparently tampered with evidence. Rorschach growled and pounded his fist on the table.

_Scum deserves death.. Easier. Safer. BETTER._

He finished the can of soup, and got up to grab another; he made a mental note.

_First Daniel. Then, Hell's Kitchen._

* * *

Walter continued briskly down the sidewalk, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and pulling the lapels of his jacket up to offer his ears some protection from the cold.

_Why the HELL am I walking to Daniel's?_

And while it was a valid question- the man did live on the other side of town- it was also a pointless one; the answer was clear.

_Because walking forces you to stay aware of your surroundings, while sitting in a cab would mean you'd have time to think... And time alone with your thoughts is NOT a pleasant experience right now._

So he walked. Hoping that maybe their friendship meant enough, that Daniel would at least listen to him before calling the nearest asylum. Hoping that perhaps Daniel just might have a reason for the dreams, if not a solution. Hoping that tonight maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't wake up and have to hold back a scream.

_Because, if I can't figure this out- then I WILL go crazy... Or end up just as broken as Rorschach. And I really just don't know which would be worse._

He was grateful for one thing; of all the nights to have a complete break down, at least he'd picked the night Blair had gone out with Laurie for a double feature. He really didn't think he could handle keeping her from further worry on top of everything else.

_Please. She's already freak out- that's why she almost didn't go tonight... But you told her to go- insisted on it... You knew something was coming- that's why you pushed her away... Because watching yourself break is one thing- but if you ever did anything to break her... _

And really... That was the reason Walter found himself walking to a friends house at 11 o'clock at night. Why he was willing to face the possibility of being called crazy, accepting that with that option comes all the side comments his so called 'friends' would make. Because Walter could feel himself cracking by degrees. And if he cracked bad enough to hurt Blair- then he wouldn't need anybody to stop him; he'd simply use the hand gun he had hidden in the closet- the one she knew nothing about- and take care of the problem himself.

It should have been a scary thought. And two weeks ago, it would have been. But this wasn't two weeks ago, it was today. And today that thought just made Walter hunch a little lower in his coat for warmth, and walk a little faster.

* * *

It had not been a good week... In fact, as Daniel walked home from Hollis', he was pretty sure he could safely rate this as the worst week of his life.

Now, starring at his front door, and seeing the deep crack running up the frame- he was further reminded of the fact that bad things can get worse.

_Well... Shit._

If it had just been the door, if all that meant was someone had broken in- Daniel probably would have laughed... Hell, he would have been relieved. But there was another part that looked at the door and KNEW what it meant... It meant there was something more to this than him just going crazy. Because while it's one thing to dream every night so vividly that you just know its a memory- it's quite another to start at your door and have the proof.

Daniel closed his eyes and sighs as bits and pieces of memory flow together to form a fractured picture show of a broken dream.

**A chance encounter with a fellow vigilante leads to a partnership**

Daniel pushed open the door- and stepped into his house. His was breathing accelerated faster than he figured was healthy as he moved quietly forward into the kitchen; his hand curling into a tight fist unconsciously at his side.

**Reliance in battle leads to trust... The removing of a mask, and revealing of a name.**

Stepping into the room, he sees as the man rolls down a mask, completely covering his face. He's sitting at the table with one empty and one half-full can of soup placed in front of him. The man half turns his head and nods.

**Revealing your face leads to opening your home, and late night chats where you talk and a man who has become your friends listens.**

"Daniel."

Daniel's mouth goes dry... He knows that voice- would recognize it anywhere- and suddenly everything becomes too real, too quickly. Suddenly Dan just wants his old boring life back- because he's not Nite Owl, and never will be.

He takes another step into the kitchen, moving a little closer to the man he shouldn't know, but does... He opens his mouth, desperate to say something.

**A young girl goes missing- and, god- you know how this is going to end... But you can't stop him from trying, because you'll never be able to look at that face and say 'let it go'.**

"You shouldn't be here... Your dead."

_Fuck!_

Suddenly the man is standing up and turning to fully face him, and Daniel's not sure whether he should be running or not. Instead of moving towards him, however, the man just tilts his head to one side and sticks his hands in his pockets. For a moment they just stare at each other, and Daniel is surprised that he was beginning to stammer- like he did as a kid when he got in trouble and had to explain himself.

"So... Um...Yeah... It's Rorschach, right?"

'Rorschach' nodded, and Daniel pointed to the remaining can of soup.

"You know, I can heat that up for you if you want."

Rorschach emitted a strange sound in the back of his throat and stepped back, instantly tensing up and crouching as if to attack. Daniel didn't know what he had said to warrant the reaction, but he immediately stepped back as well and raised his hands, palms facing out.

_Oh great... An unstable, sensitive psychotic... Shit- I don't need this right now._

"Look... Whatever's going on... Whatever I did... I'm sorry."

**You stand in a basement, and tell a one time friend that the dream is dead- that it's over... To let it go... He just turns and walks away, and you don't stop him. Truthfully, you've been saying 'goodbye' in dregrees for two years.**

Rorschach immediately stops and relaxes his stance, looking down at his clenched hands like they didn't really belong to him; he drops them limply to his side ... He looked down at the floor as he shuffles from foot to foot; then looks over at the soup.

_Is he... Embarrassed?_

"Heat... Appreciated."

**A cold nights walk ends with meeting a face you thought had forgotten you. A casual flick of the wrist sends a smiley face pin into your hand- and your life back to the brink.**

Daniel dropped his hands and released the breath he didn't know he was holding. At least a task to perform would allow him to get his bearings. Giving Rorschach a wide berth, he grabbed the can of soup and a bowl out of the cabnet. he poured the soup into the bowl and stuck it into the microwave.

With that done, he turned back to Rorschach, and offered a small smile. He really didn't want to ask the next question, but Daniel was beginning to think that if he didn't get the ball rolling, Rorschach would still be standing in his kitchen three days later. When the microwave finally beeped, he took the soup out and placed it back on the table; Rorschach ignored it.

"Okay... Not that I mind the company... But, why are you here?"

**Standing in a bar, fearless and strong, as your partner gets answers. News of Hollis' death mocks you from the TV- and you see red; you lunge towards the seated Top-Knot- and just keep hitting.**

Rorschach growled in what Daniel hoped was just frustration and put his hands back in pocket.

"Not wrong... Should have died. Didn't. Need answers. Need way back... Need... Help."

Daniel sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He'd been battling a headache most of the week; now it was pulsing at his temples, and waves of vertigo were making his vision swim. Daniel closed his eyes, and whispered more to himself than Rorschach.

"I can't help you... I'm not Nite Owl... Never was, never will be."

**You look into the eyes of a man who crowned himself Saviour and it's all you can do not to vomit. Not because of what he's done- but because you know, and will do nothing. And you hope that the world is worth never being able to look at your reflection again.**

Rorschach growled and walked forward, placing himself inches away from his face. He spat his words at Daniel, angry.

"Liar... **Coward**...Know something... Knew me- knew about death. Know about Nite Owl. Claim ignorance, show otherwise... WHY?"

Daniel prided himself on being reasonable, he was always the one to calmly look for a solution while everyone else panicked...

So it came as a surprise to both of them when Daniel decided that reason could take a flying leap- reached forward- and in one swift movement, locked his arms around Rorschach's upper arms, grabbed the front of his lapels and hoisted him off the floor, slamming him into the front of the refrigerator.

"WHY?"... Daniel snarled... "Well, let me count the fucking ways..."

Maybe it's because some big blue **Smurf** decided to play god and break a few physics laws to send a raving lunatic to my doorstep... Maybe it's because I can't close my eyes anymore without being haunted by a life I never lived... And maybe, just maybe, it's simply because after a week of insanity, I'm really just not in the mood."

In hindsight, Daniel had gotten lucky... Because while Rorschach might have been wary, he probably never figured Daniel would be capable of any physical threat; which meant it took Rorschach longer to react than normal. Personal memories, however, weren't the only thing being passed on; combat skills allowed Daniel to know that the hold he had Rorschach in was solid.

Well... Solid-ish.

Because even before Daniel finished shouting, another more rational part of his mind was screaming at him three basic principles he'd absorbed from his 'dreams'.

1) Rorschach doesn't like to be touched or manhandled.

2) Purposefully pissing off Rorschach is a crazy- but effective- form of suicide.

3) Rorschach really, REALLY Does. Not. Like. To. Be. Touched.

Daniel knew what came next... It just happened too fast for him to see it.

One moment he had Rorschach pinned, the next Rorschach was roaring with rage as his foot made solid contact with Daniel's stomach, and a fist was slamming into the right side of his face. Daniel heard a lens crack in glasses as he stumbled back and dropped to one knees.

But Rorschach just kept coming, with fists, elbows, knees, and feet. Daniel did manage to block most of the blows, and he was pretty sure that Rorschach was somewhat pulling his punches. Still, it wasn't long before darkness began inching it's way across his vision and he dropped completely onto the kitchen floor. Rorschach stood over him, poised to deliver more punishment.

**You walk out in the freezing cold and watch as a man stands shattered at the feet of a blue god... And you know you could cry out, stop the carnage, but you don't; and the blood splashes the snow and makes a tell-tale design.**

Time seemed to stop as both just stayed there, breathing raggedly, while starring at each other. A thousand conversations he'd never had with the Rorschach played through his mind as the darkness slowly came to claim him. Daniel decided he really didn't have anything to lose, so he attacked back with the only weapon he had left.

Daniel looks up at him, giving his best impersonation of his father-in-laws 'it's all so fucking hysterical' smile.

"Want my definition of crazy?.. Someone who can't function unless he makes the world as broken and twisted as he is." Daniel widened the smile slowly, fighting against unconsciousness . "Last world took you years to warp... This one only took you five days... Congradulations"

Fatigue was settling over Daniel fast now, and he was slowly loosing knowledge of what was going on around him. It was only distantly that he heard the sound of his door opening and someone shouting his name; he was far too out of it to recognize the small, ginger haired figure as he rushed at Rorschach, driving him into the far wall.

**You hear a scream of rage, and pain, and loss- and think it was his dying voice caught in the wind; only later, when your throat feels raw, do you realize it was your own.**

The blackness took Daniel, and it was his last thought that he realized that there would be no relief in the darkness... Only the dreamscape memories he'd come to despise. Like a merciless movie reel, the images played there sad tale over and over again in his mind.

Meanwhile- somewhere out in the vastness of a fractured universe- a gear turns and a cog moves, and the hands of a great clock tick one minute closer to midnight.


	7. night visits by shoeychocolatXD

hey, finally new chapter. IM NOT DEAD!

* * *

Theo walked into her living room thinking of the days to come

_vigilante work will become my life, how will I do this, how will I cope. I need guidance, not just courage._

Her living room, still adorned with that hideous floral patterned couch was at least quiet. Quiet enough to think, the city still had its dull drone but the world outside did not concern her for now she walked to her couch and sat the TV dinner she carried onto the coffee table in front of it.

_Why is it that I started this now, I had to have that Rorschach guy come out and be a vigilante to do it myself?_

The sky outside her window glowed blue, the skyline under the cityscape was pitch black as it had been for the past hundred years or so. Brooklyn slowly came to life around her as the sun slid lower over the cityscape. When the sky finally turned its smog colored brown in the matter of seconds a bright blue glow still remained on the horizon. It looked like nothing she had ever seen. It wasn't a plane, satellite or lamppost, it was something more and different.

_What is that glow?_

Theo turned to the back of her couch to look at it before it disappeared. She moved her hand slowly across the couch to provide a hold for her head while she brought it down on the back of her couch. And she slowly fell asleep.

Two hours later she awoke to that very same glow in her own living room. Turning around slowly she saw a glowing blue man with the physique of a god. She jumped and stood to face him.

Let it never be said that Theo did not have enough courage to face any attacker. When she was twelve, and her mother was still alive, she single handedly took on a mugger trying to do more than just take her money. But this, she did not know exactly how to describe why she didn't, a feeling of alarm, inferiority or the great sense of calm that he inevitably brought along with him she would never know

"oh my god, what the hell are you."

He did not answer right away. In fact it was as if he had not heard her at all. She turned her eyes away from him. The silence had become uncomfortable for her.

_Is he a spirit or something, I can't tell, oh Jesus a freaking glowing blue man_

She was terrified, after all, it wasn't everyday that a glowing blue man showed up in her living room. was she going crazy or something else entirely, slowly she sat back on her couch.

'you are not insane, I am here to help"

_Oh shit, the guy spoke_

She looked warily at him. Now that she had time to study him, she found him to be quite handsome, underneath that

_Underneath that, what , glowing, floating, probably reading my thoughts exterior, maybe if I listen to him, he might go away?_

Slowly he reached toward her, his voice a clam monotone. There was no way else to describe it. It held absolutely no emotion.

" I am only here to help, my name is Dr. Manhattan"

"are you insane, or a ghost or am I insane or am I dead?

"you are not dead"

_I guess if he is a figment of my imagination, maybe he is real. I don't know, stranger things have happened._

_What stranger things, he is glowing and blue?_

she slowly got up off of the couch, as if he would go away if she looked away.

"If I am to believe you, what will you gain from this, from me?"

He lowered his hand and took a step back from her. He acted as if she where a wild animal. Maybe she was, she ha felt the overwhelming urge to bolt. But a feeling of safety had settled over her and she did not.

"you are important"

"important how?"

"I do not know, just that I am compelled to protect you"

She slowly walked toward him, after all, if he wanted to kill her, then he would have done it already.

A sudden thought occurred to her

_If he is real, then I would feel him if I touched him_

_Eww but he is naked, have you not noticed the total nakedness_

_I'm not going to touch him_

_Maybe I should, just to be sure_

The argument she had within herself surprised even her. Why should she try this. If this was a dream, he would still be felt.

"you may"

Startled out of her thoughts she stared at him in disbelief.

"what"

He answered her question before she even asked it!

" I can se my future, and I know that you want to ask me if you can touch me. It is ok if you do"

She hesitated, he could kill her at any second,

_Shut your paranoia up Theo and just do it,_

the inner voice sounded like Gabriel this time instead of herself.

slowly reached up to him.

_He feels like one of those glass balls that you touch and purple light attracts to your fingers and I haven't even touched him yet._

Her fingers where slowly enveloped in the blue light emanating around him.

he had no hair on his chest or anywhere else but he was muscular, well built if she could say almost like a statue. She slowly lay her hand on his chest, her fingers touched, not stone as she thought they would, but instead soft, human skin.

* * *

A tall, lanky but well built blonde man curled up in his bed next to another man, this one was muscular, black haired and just as tall but had more of an athletic physique, neither dreamt, they just lay there in each others arms.

A noise, the sound of a breaking door or window floated into the bedroom, disturbing the nightly peace that surrounded the couple.

Slowly the blonde man stirred and sat up.

"Jon, did you hear that"

He turned to his fiancée, Jonathan osterman, a necular physicist turned inventor.

he shook his arm, Jon only snorted and curled up closer to him.

_Dang it Jon, I am not playing around_

"go back to sleep Adrian"

_Oh so you are awake!_

"I heard something Jon, I think someone is breaking into the house"

Jon sat up and linked his arms around Adrian's thin frame. The sleep was still resonant in his eyes and sluggish movements.

"are you sure its our house"

Adrian veidt, the inventor, and certified genius looked in disbelief at Jon. After all. He was no dummy either. That is why Adrian fell for him.

"Jon, we live in new York, I have to be sure"

Adrian shifted off of the bed and grabbed his purple pajama pants off of the floor beside the bed. Before he had a chance to pull them on, a blur of brown ripped through the door and yanked Adrian off of the bed. The tall blonde man wasn't small enough to hang off the wall as the shorter man was a head smaller but the hand that grasped his throat still squeezed and squeezed hard.

Barely a second after this happened Jon threw himself off the bed toward the small man, he was thrown back toward the corner in a lifeless heap. His attack didn't even leave a scratch in the small man. Adrian's eyes grew wider and he croaked out a word

"Jon"

Jon, the only man who understood him, and the only one who cared to try, was lying in a lifeless heap across the floor, and Adrian could do nothing.

"what are you up to veidt?"

The mans hands tightened around his throat but not much.

_I cant breathe, has he killed Jon? Who is he?_

The other gloved hand raised menacingly. The unknown assailant threw his fist foreword. Adrian heard a crunch and felt blood drip off of his nose onto the sleeve of the short man.

he felt the same hand slam into his unclothed stomach, smearing blood onto it.

He only had time to adjust to the pain when he felt a searing pain in his knee. This man spared no thought. He just attacked brutally and without reason. Finally he stopped. Through the broken jaw and the red haze over his eyes he finally had the chance to ask the question burning at him since this insane attacker threw himself into Adrian and Jon's house.

"who. Who are you?"

"you know who I am veidt"

_If this guy could spit on me, that is exactly what he would be doing, he hates me with a passion, I don't even know him, but he knows me, how?_

The voice did remind him of someone, someone who possessed unbelievable strength, even though he had such a small frame.

**"the comedian dead, but why"**

**"you where always supposed to be the worlds smartest man veidt, you tell me"**

**"I never claimed to be anyone special, Rorschach. I just have some over enthusiastic p.r. men. Listen, could it have been a political killing? Maybe the soviets…."**

**"Drieberg said same thing, don't believe it, America has Dr. Manhattan, reds have been running scared since 65' they'd never dare to antagonize us, I think we've got a mask killer."**

_So this mystery man was Rorschach, but why would he attack me, that's not even me, it's a dream, a memory of something that was never me._

**" the plan Blake had uncovered was this: to frighten governments into co operation."**

**"Adrian, come on, what you're serious"**

**"Blake understood, he knew my plan would succeed, though its scale terrified him. that's why he told nobody. It was to big to discuss, but he understood. At the end, he understood"**

**"when was this hopeless black fantasy supposed to happen? when where you planning to do it?"**

**"Dan I'm not a republic serial villain. Do you seriously think I would explain my master plan to you if there remained the slightest chance of you affecting its outcome, I did it thirty five minutes ago"**

"I am not that guy Rorschach, that is someone else, I wouldn't do that."

Adrian's eyes shifted quickly from Rorschach's mask to Jonathan laying on the floor.

"listen, what ever you want, I didn't do that"

Rorschach's grip stiffened on his neck

_he wouldn't believe me, he is a sociopath, I remember that much_

"how do I know, how do you know about what happened?"

_He doesn't believe me_

"if this is true then the space time continuum was destroyed and everyone is seeing visions of their other selves, and probably vice versa, the other Adrian will know this, and if he wants to keep you out, he will take measures to do so"

The grip on Adrian's throat loosened by a fraction of an inch. He took that as a cue to keep going.

"if I took the title of smartest man on earth there, then why would you think that my intelligence has lessened here. Through the dreams I found both Jon and I have that correspond in events, and your appearance here, I have deduced that they could only be true"

The hand on his throat receded, Adrian fell to his knees and looked Rorschach into his swirling mask, the swirls had calmed somewhat.

_He is paranoid, the more I plead not guilty, the more I will be thought to be so, just change the subject._

"you are not just here to see about me are you Rorschach?"

The shorter man moved his head toward Jonathan still lying in the corner and quickly back to Adrian's face

_He wants Jon, he thinks Jon can get him back!_

Adrian sensing what Rorschach was going to do next, probably involving breaking a few of Jon's fingers, ran to protect his lover

**_"move veidt"_**

Rorschach roared, any lesser man would have cowered in fear, but not Adrian, he knew Rorschach, at least, knew him through the memories that where not his.

"what makes you think Jon can get you back?"

Adrian ran his hands through Jon's black hair. Even though he was in severe pain, he would still protect Jon, no matter what Rorschach thought to do to him. Jon began to stir and opened his eyes. he looked up at Adrian. His eyes where unfocused.

"Adrian, are you ok"

Adrian laughed dryly

_Always like Jon to care to much, even when he was in serious pain, he still worries about me_

"Jon, you remember those dreams that we have, the ones about you and me as superheroes?"

Jon looked up at Rorschach and back to Adrian, it was unclear if he was even registering this.

"those where real?"

"yeah, they where real."

_What does Rorschach have to say, probably about our blatant homosexuality or something equally as dark. I know he will. I'm surprised he didn't kill me after the horrible things the other me did._

But what Rorschach said surprised even Adrian.

"if you cannot help, then I have no use for you"

And in two seconds, like a natural disaster, he was gone. leaving no trace except for a broken door and two very surprised very hurt men.

Rorschach's journal

Went to see veidt, took measures to get truth out of him, do not trust him, seemed convincing, wouldn't trust him. Osterman there too, wasn't an accident so he isn't Manhattan, cannot help me, not so sure he would try.

**_authors note._ im so sorry that i did not update sooner, had some things going on but now i'm back!**

**~shoeychocolatXD**


	8. another day by ShoeychocolatXD

The hard fabric felt good under Walter's hands. The pure white skin was stained with bruises and blood. The only thing his anger could manifest into were fists, flying, graceful anger fueled fists. It felt good to release. 

His form was getting better. The first time he walked into the gym, the leader laughed at the scrawny man. They told him to just leave, that no man that small and unimpressive should contain that much strength. They were wrong. The mistake was that he was still angry. He had let that man, the shadow of himself that came from nowhere, hurt his friend. He was too late to save Daniel from a beating that landed him in the hospital, but he wasn't late enough to miss the end of it. He wasn't late enough to get thrown across the counter and a knife nearly stuck in his heart.

His hands stained the punching bag. The normally white skin was red and purple and blue. Even some sickly yellows stained the skin from old bruises.. For an instant he forgot to breathe. He forgot to think. For an instant he was only revenge and anger and rage. He wanted to kill, to maim.

The only thing separating him from the man he was in his dreams. The man that beat men to death savagely and almost did the same to his best friend, was the thought of how much he had to loose. The large room echoed with the pained grunts and thuds of each hit to the bag. The ring in the middle was empty and the sky outside was grey. It must have been a bad day to go boxing for the others because no one was there, but he and the gym leader in the office across the gym. For Walter. It was just another day.

A timid hand touched his shoulder. He barely registered it, barely registered anything at all really. The fingers ran up his shoulder seductively. The muscles around his neck tensed as they always did when someone touched him. But It was just Blair. She smiled at him when he looked toward her. His fists stopped pounding the bag and dropped to his sides. Her warm smile brought him back from himself and the dark black and white mentality that enslaved him. Once again he was Walter.

"Blair, what are you doing here?

He stopped to look at his badly beaten hands. Flexing them. he looked back up to his wife's concerned face. The stinging pain barely registered in his clouded mind. The blue matting underneath his feet was cold. The whole gym was cold. His wife's pallor was white. Whiter than normal for the small blonde woman.

"why do you do this to yourself Walter? Why do you beat your fists until they bleed?"

_Because_ he thought _I cant think of anything else. When I am like this I forget._

His mind once again wondered from reality to the memories that were not his but haunted him one and the same.

The pitch black room had a scent to it. The sent of death, the feeling of horror seeped from the walls, almost like a slaughter house. but this slaughter house was for people. Any lesser man would have ran from the horror that the building had held. Some part of him would have been uneasy if it hadn't died with that little girl. Walter was gone. But his need for justice and his blind rage remained. That was all that kept him from being an empty shell. A homeless vagabond that gets food from a dumpster and sympathy from the hypocritical.

Walters blue eyes flashed as he came back to the present. Nothing seemed to change. Yes he was different, yes he was filled with the same blind need for justice as his memorial counterpart. But the difference was in the eyes of his wife. The little girl that hadn't died and instead lived and breathed and belonged to him and him alone.

She ran her hands through his short red hair. He shivered with adrenaline and the feeling of her hands smoothing out the spikes in his thick orange hair. The wounds on his hands had already stopped bleeding. After his work out at the gym he needed to get out. To forget and become Walter once again.

* * *

Daniel sat in his hospital bed. The white room was full of noise and chatter. His wife sat at his bedside chatting with his mother and father in law. Sally's smile was probably the brightest thing in the room. The couple were the poster children of nosy in laws. Asking about one thing or another. Telling them how this and that and the other was supposed to be done and frankly Daniel was probably the only one that could stand Sally and Eddie sat on the couch in the corner. Probably discussing the next get together or bothering Laurie about when they were going to have any grandchildren.

Well, Sally was. Eddie seemed to be as bored as Daniel felt. The big man may have dwarfed his smaller wife but she seemed to be the biggest thing in the room. The couple was old. Anyone could tell that. But they did love each other. Sally's piercing voice pulled Daniel out of his thoughts.

"so Danny hunny. When will you and Laurie bless our family with a child?" her wrinkled eyes pierced his.

"MOM! I told you not to ask him. It will happen when it happens"

Laurie was tired of the questions. All the time with the when will you. What are you doing? from her mother.

I think that Laurie's last desperate rebellion was to marry me!

That of course doesn't mean she didn't love him. And it didn't mean he didn't love her. Of course if he hadn't married her he would probably still be in his house, pantless and drinking beer on the couch. Life was still great. But if only he could get up from this stupid bed…if only he could move. That man. That freak. His best friend in another life. The other life that he and his friends were experiencing, he was still out there. Beating people senseless and probably to death. Daniel scanned the obituaries everyday. There were more and more deaths with his calling card. The masked crusader turned angel of death. but Maybe…just maybe Daniel wasn't the only one to know who he really was? Was he?

"Eddie. Sally. Have you been…remembering things….things that didn't happen. Like that you were a superhero?"

Great. I have just confessed to my insanity. They will demand a divorce and ha-ha. I'm talking to myself again. ha

"what do you mean dear. Is this about the new superhero craze? Like that horseman person or the one with the freaky mask?"

Sally was obviously avoiding the question. Each one of them looked startled though. Laughing to himself. Chuckling really. he pursued the question.

He knew he hit the jackpot. "Really Sally. If I had been joking would I have asked? When have you ever heard me joke about this?"

Eddie wasn't afraid though. Well perhaps a little afraid of his wife but not enough to not pipe up.

"so Sally and I weren't the only ones. I thought we were going senile in our old age."

That was Eddie, always a comedian. Always the first to crack a joke…horrible jokes sometimes. Like his counterpart. Like all our counterparts. And the three or four of us that may still be left alive. Not including Eddie of course. This wasn't a joke though. He could tell.

The conversation ended after that. What was said was probably the only thing that would be said on that. Each one of them knew about the things that happened in that other life. No one wanted to mention it. None of it. The only sound left was the beeping of the machines. And the squeaking of the door.

"hello hello"

Blair and Walter walked in. not even asking, because frankly they didn't need to. Always friends to he and Laurie.

Eddie stood up to meet them. Sally and Laurie stayed politely on the couch and chair respectively. Walter looked good. Better than he did. It must have been silly thinking about how Walter looked when he was the one in the hospital.

"how are you doing pipsqueak?"

Eddie was always the first for hospitality. As well. However rude. The two men shook hands.

"not to bad Mr. Blake, hello Mrs. Blake….Laurie."

The two women had gotten up to meet with Blair. Neither of them said a word to Walter. Not like Daniel expected any different.

Eddie coughed uncomfortably.

"sorry Walt, you know my wife and daughter."

"indeed I do Mr. Blake"

From the hospital bed Dan spoke.

"hey uh. Guys…can I have a moment alone with Walter. I need to speak with him about some things.

The group moved out of the room so that Daniel and Walter were alone. And instantly Walter changed.

"I'm sorry Daniel…."

The smaller man got smaller somehow. He moved toward the old chair sitting by Daniel's bed.

"what do you have to be sorry for? You didn't do anything?"

Walters face fell. The already pallid skin drained even more. Leaving only a few splotches of orange to give him any color at all.

"I have some weird connection with this man. I should have been there sooner. I should have known what he was going to do."

"don't beat yourself up for it man"

In zero to sixty he was furious. At what Daniel didn't know.

"I'm sharing my mind with a madman. The only thing I can do is beat myself up. It is all I have been doing. Have you seen what I look like. Under here."

He motioned toward his black cardigan. The sleeves were pulled down to conceal his hands. He rolled up the sleeves to reveal his arms. Bruises lined his hands and forearms, almost so many that it was hard to tell that Walter was very heavily freckled. He almost looked like a smurf. scabs lined his knuckles. Walter seemed to be more of a mess than originally thought. Walters booted feet moved along the hardwood floors of the old: new York hospital.

"everyday…..everyday I live in fear. You remember…..Think hard. What I remember when the other me changed from what he was….me. To what he is now. A MONSTER. A monster that kills and hurts and cries on the inside for the loss of the little girl that he couldn't save."

Tears fell down his face. Daniel had never seen another man cry. Certainly not his best friend. Walter was always stoic. Always ready to crack a joke however dry it would be. His whole body shook, with rage or despair, Daniel couldn't tell. He just felt it. Daniel just knew.

* * *

Blair sat and listened at the heavy hardwood door to Daniels hospital room. It wasn't like she had to listen hard. Walters deep voice could be heard through it. But because it was so deep and the wood so thick the group could only hear the tones to it. Soon the voices quit. The men were quiet once more.

Blair huddled down to the bottom of the door. Laurie huddled next to her to hear her own husbands conversation.

"what do you think they are talking about?"

Laurie turned toward Blair. Blair had sat down with her back toward the door. Another person lost in thought.

" do you know about the thing that has been happening to him? Apparently he remembers this life where superheroes were real!"

Laughing she continued on. "apparently you were a silk spectre two. Or something like that. Wore a suit of latex and kicked the crap out of bad guys. Along with Daniel. He was night owl two."

Blair laughed at the absurdity of her best friend running around in latex. She turned towards Laurie. Laurie was laughing too

"I know. I cant believe we did it either. Can you believe. we were superheroes! Dan looked like a fake ass batman and there was this guy. Captain

carnage. He would try to get beaten up because the sick fuck got off on it. Until Walter threw him down an elevator shaft. He either died or was in so much pain for the rest of his life that he never needed to go after us again!"

"Wow. …wait what? Walter threw a guy down an elevator shaft?"

Laughter between the two women increased.

"you didn't know. Walter was a crazy one. Beat men up, saved the ladies. Hated and when I say hated I mean HATED being touched. Ha… he was like a freaking killer nun that guy. Never liked him really. He was bearable until that girl was killed. Then he went batshit. Killed people and all that."

Laurie was laughing so hard that she started coughing. Blair on the other had got serious.

"what do you mean killed people?'

"oh….well uh. That little girl fucked him up good. That Roche girl he swore up and down to save. Then he found out some sick fuck butchered her and fed her to the dogs."

Laurie got serious. Very much so. Probably couldn't think about what to tell her. How could you tell your best friend that in another life she was butchered and caused her husband to go insane.

"you mean" her expression changed. "that he has been fighting himself and turning into this guy….all this time? Why don't I remember this if you guys do? And what do you mean Roche girl?"

"Blair. I'm sorry. We figure that that girl must have been….well you can figure out the rest"

The two women sat in silence for about an hour. each one with their own thoughts on the subject. But ultimately coming to the same conclusion about Walter. If they wanted him to stay him. And not succumb to this madman that shared his mind. They would have to get help for him. Somehow.


End file.
